


Hook, Line and Sinker

by reapwhatyousow (ohaiwrites)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Also feelings, Angst, Body Horror, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, Multi, Other, Smut, Torture, it's not really a slow build when they're fucking in the first sentence is it, more smut, so yeah but this attempts to be a long fic, the starter is a blatant Grey's Anatomy rip-off but i don't care, this got some dark stuff please take care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohaiwrites/pseuds/reapwhatyousow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy meets girl in a bar. Girl fucks guy. Both leave happily without any ever after. Until fate throws them together again, and they realize they might actually like each other.</p><p>It's not that I'm not all about slow builds. But Jesse McCree goes in hard and heavy, and that's what I'm about to convey.</p><p>Also some other story lines going on, because that's how I roll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Well aren't you a dirty little thing" he moaned as her mouth slid over his cock, tongue twirling around the tip, lips gently squeezing down. Leaning his head back against the toilet stall and closing his eyes, McCree made a fist in her hair as she brought him closer to the edge. 

They had met a few minutes before, both tipsy and flirty, bumping into each other at the bar. She had spilled his drink all over his shirt, and he had stared at her breasts with unabashed joy.

"Up here, cowboy" she had demanded, and he had mumbled something semi-suave about her lips being nearly as sexy as her body. 

_Oh her lips are definitely sexy how they pout around my dick._

"Fuck" he groaned, bucking his hips against her mouth in desperate need for release. Instead, she stopped and let his cock slip out of her mouth with a wet pop. 

A joyous challenge on her face, the woman looked at him, a smirk on her lips. 

"Oh darlin'..." he mumbled, caressing her hair and pulling her chin up with his hand.

He was too drunk, too hot and too close to release, but he didn't mind. Jesse McCree enjoyed the chase as much as the catch, and this right here was the sweetest part. He wouldn't have minded simply eating her out, jacking himself off to the sounds of her climax, but she had pretty much immediately pushed him against the stall and went down on him, and he wasn't the kind of guy who'd complain about any of that.

It was his time to return the favor, and when he pushed up her skirt she shivered underneath his hands. He ate her out with the dedication of a starving man, savoring every little drip, taking his time to explore her. When she started moaning he nearly lost his damn mind, and moments before she came he stopped, got up, turned her around and slipped his cock inside her, still being incredibly turned on. If at all, pleasuring her had made him even harder, his erection throbbing between his legs. Biting down into her shoulder, he first gently cupped her breasts, then pinched her nipples as he sped up his own rhythm. The stranger reached behind her, digging her nails into the back of his neck, tearing at his hair. With her other hand, she tried to reach his ass, smacking down with only half force since her angle wasn't really that good. 

"Got myself a wild thing here" he grunted, picking up the pace and pinning her arms against the wall.

"Less talking, more fucking" she groaned impatiently, both of them meeting the other's rhythm now. 

"Mhmmm" he hummed, sucking on her throat and changing the pace to slow, tantalizingly intense movements. A whimper escaped her mouth, a small, beautiful sound that made him close his eyes in joy. 

She came undone as he was nearing his own climax, her shudders and bucking hips tipping him over the edge. 

_Well ain't it something._

* * *

The bangs against the door were annoyingly loud. Soooo annoying. And loud. 

Too loud.

McCree opened his eyes and immediately regretted this decision. The light blinded him to the point of a sharp headache, and his whole body felt tense and tired. 

 _"I'm not a young man anymore"_ he mocked 76's line, and even though he lacked an audience, it was enough to entertain him out of bed, chuckling.

 "Coming, I'm coming" he called over as he stumbled to the door someone was still banging against. Damn it with the loud noises.

When he unlocked and opened his small room, he'd been prepared for the landlord to get on his nerves again about keeping it down, or about not bringing any more women - or men - around, or about paying rent on time for once. Instead, the small bundle of energy they called Tracer stood there, nearly banging her fist against his face when the door was suddenly opened. 

"Oi, Jesse!" she squealed, jumping in for a hug. Confused, he patted her on the back, then gave her a short squeeze.

"Easy now" he said, going through his hair with his hand when she squeezed past him. 

"Take yer easy and shove it, I've been pounding on yer door for 10 minutes!" Tracer complained, then laughed, eyeing him up and down. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, love" he grinned, suddenly really glad he at least hadn't taken off his shorts when he had crashed to bed last night. Everything was blurry, but he was pretty sure it had involved fucking a stranger in a bathroom stall and about 12 shots of Whiskey.

_Right on._

"Winston's got something for you" Tracer explained cheerfully, walking around his little apartment curiously, picking up random things, inspecting them, then setting them back. 

"Could you.. not do that?" It made him nervous, her studying his place like a crime scene. Sure, it wasn't pretty - especially nowadays that he rarely stayed anywhere for longer than a few months tops. But it had a bed, a shower and an ashtray, so it was good in his books.

Tracer smiled apologetically. "Sorry! I'm just so curious to see how you live. It's been so long!"

He couldn't resist her cheerfulness. "Tis all good."

Smirking, she nudged her elbow in his side. "I think Winston wants to send you on a mission" she whispered conspiratorially, as if someone was around that could hear them, or as if Winston would be able to tell she already spoiled the beans. "So get ready, I'm taking you to him!"

"Wait. He's in the country?!" Winston had to be really serious if he had flown all the way to the south west, leaving his comfy Gibraltar base behind. 

"Yep" Tracer nodded, suddenly disappeared, and when she returned in a blink, handed him a stash of clothes. "Get going, cowboy!"

* * *

The whole thing was moving so fast, it was hard to catch up. His head was still killing him, his vision blurry whenever they moved too quickly. Too quickly meant anything faster than walking speed, so Tracer had gotten exhausted with him rather soon.

Yet, they had made it to the meeting point, and seeing Winston again had been a joy. So far they had only communicated by calls or chats, and McCree had nearly forgotten what a sight the gorilla was. Tall, big, hairy, and adorably weird with his glasses.

"It took me an hour to track you down. You really need to be more careful, Jesse" Winston lectured him and dipped his finger into the peanut butter.

"Ay, maybe I _want_ to be found?" he replied, shrugging.

Since 76 first had made contact, he had changed his routine, leaving small select traces when switching locations. It compromised his safety, but he happily traded that in for the chance to find more of his old contacts - or to be found by them. 76 had made him swear not to reveal his existence to anyone, and Jesse had basically only agreed after he saw him knock out some guy's teeth with the end of his weapon. He had changed. Better not test his patience.

The scientist chuckled. "Still the same then."

Making a dismissive hand gesture, McCree scoffed. "Eh, you mean am I still the hottest thing around for 200 miles straight? Sure, sure." He tipped his hat and winked at Tracer, who snorted loudly. 

"Look, Jesse" Winston began anew, more serious this time, "we have a former Overwatch agent running with Deadlock leftovers, claiming to have played both sides, offering intel and requesting extraction."

"Well this just sounds like trouble" he interrupted him, shaking his head.

_No one could be this stupid._

His friend sighed, then continued. "Yeah yeah, we know. Which is why we want you to go in. See if it's for real."

Going back to his former gang, most of whom wanted him dead? Sure. 

"You could just put a bullet through my head and be done with it, if you're tryin' to get me killed, y'know."

Tracer and Winston exchanged looks.

They had already talked about this, apparently. When Tracer started talking, her voice was determined and steady, her eyes locking him down.

"We know it's a big risk, but you're the only one who'd even know how to talk to them. If this contact is real, the intel could save so many lives--" 

He threw his hands up and she stopped. She always got so emotional trying to persuade him, and she knew damn well it always worked on him. 

"Okay okay" he sighed, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"So you're saying yes?" the Brit asked with wide eyes. 

McCree let out a long breath. "Yeah. Guess so."

_Someone call the undertaker._

* * *

Jesse had been waiting at the agreed-upon location for an hour, but so far, no one who matched the description provided by Winston had made a show. He checked his notes one last time, then got up to scout the area.

_5'6'', blonde hair, athletic, raven tattoo on left shoulder_

Anything except for height could be altered, and he couldn't really go around asking strangers to show their shoulder blades. (He was tempted though).

Lighting up another cigar, McCree made his way across the plaza, eyes seemingly darting over the little stands and their wares, but never losing focus. They were supposed to meet at the third bench left from the small Italian place, but every bench was empty, the square only half-filled with people hurrying to buy their goods or simply make their way home. 

"I'm sorry, but smoking is not permitted in this area" reminded him a small voice that belonged to an elderly man standing next to him. 

"Course" McCree mumbled, quickly putting out the tip of his cigar on the floor and stashing the rest carefully into his pocket. He would have to indulge himself later then.

When he turned to check on the designated meeting point one last time, he nearly crashed into the man he had just talked to. 

It couldn't be.

_What were the chances?_

There, in broad daylight, perfectly in match with Winston's description, sat his contact. 

_Could've told me I'm meeting a girl._

Approaching her slowly and trying to catch her gaze, McCree sat down next to her. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and her expression didn't give anything away, but there was no mistaking her. 

"You cannot be serious" he said quietly without looking at her, scouting the plaza once more for possible traps or agents.

"Funny, thought the same thing" she replied drily. 

_Well this is gonna be fun._

He stuck out his hand, and as she shook it, he introduced himself, tipping his hat. "Jesse McCree."

"Riley Morgan" she replied after a brief pause, and she bit her lip in disbelief. "Shit" she added, then laughed.

The sound of her laugh brought back flashes of memories, and Jesse knew right there he was fucked.

It was the girl from the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I hope you enjoyed this! comments, feedback, declarations of love and anything else is appreciated and welcome as always <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this got dark. please check the tags again!

He had always enjoyed a pretty face far too much for his own good. When he was 13, a cute girl had caught him stealing a pack of cigarettes out of pure boredom, following him outside the store to confront him about it. "Are you going to smoke them or just play pretend?" she had asked, and young Jesse had wanted to impress her so eagerly he pulled one out, only to realize he didn't have anything to light it with. Seeing some men stand at the street corner, he had went up to them and asked them for fire. 

That's how he met Luke and Dante.

They were both infamous members of the Deadlock Gang, something Jesse had been too oblivious and too debonair to know, and they had laughed when he asked them for a lighter, having watched him exit the store with the stolen cigarettes with curiosity. 

_Funny how life works._

Sometimes he wondered what would have become of him if he hadn't met that girl or if he hadn't wanted to impress her. Hell, he didn't even remember her name anymore. Would've probably brought the cigarettes back to his pops, gotten into some trouble more, maybe finished high school. Instead, within a week after meeting Luke and Dante, he had been running errants for the Deadlock Gang on a daily basis and had started making a name for himself.

_Jesse McCree._

Wasn't his real name of course, but who was counting? 

"Better go talk somewhere more private" Riley said and stood up, bringing him back to the present. 

"Sure, sweet thing" he replied and followed her away from the market square. He wasn't too familiar with this particular part of town, but Jesse was pretty sure he'd always find his way back in case he got lost. Or lost her - she was hurrying through dark alleys and small streets, occasionally looking over her shoulder to see if he was still there. After a few minutes they reached the end of a street and steered right to what looked like the back entrance of a restaurant, a pickup truck standing outside, different cases of vegetables sitting on the floor, waiting to be picked up and brought inside. 

"We don't have a lot of time, so we'll make this quick" Riley said and cautiously eyed the back entrance, where the door stood ajar, being kept open with a small box of tomatoes. 

"I'll keep an eye on that" Jesse suggested, pulling out the cigar he had put out earlier. It wasn't too bad a spot to talk - remote but accessible. With the restaurant in front of them, they had a three story building in their backs and a fence closing off the street to their left. A small dirt track led away from the fence and probably to the restaurant's entrance around the building, so there was always a chance to get lost through there. 

"Good" she said, and when he looked at her, she seemed nervous.

"So what's this about?" he asked, trying to make this easier on her and get it over with. Being on the edge whenever it came to the Deadlocks was understandable, but he started to wonder how the hell she was supposed to be playing both sides with those nerves of hers.

Straightening her back, she let her gaze graze around the area one more time. When her eyes met his, she looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry" she whispered.

Then everything went black.

* * *

If his hangover the day before had been bad, then this headache was the purest evil ever known to man. His head hurt like a motherfucker, the spot where they had knocked him down was throbbing and sent sharp pains all the way to his lower back in steady pulses.

He groaned and wanted to open his eyes, but there was nothing. Everything was black, and as he came to himself he realized they had bound a cloth around his eyes. There was no response to his groans, so he started checking in with his body. He was sitting, tied against a chair apparently, his arms bound to the back of the chair behind his back. With the exception of his head, nothing hurt beyond a general feeling of having been knocked out, so at least there was that. Wiggling his hands against the restraints, Jesse realized he was wearing handcuffs, the metal digging into his right wrist. 

When he heard footsteps approach he stopped moving, let his head hang and tried to play unconscious for a little longer. 

"Shit Morgan, you really delivered on that one" said an all too familiar voice.

_Oh, shit._

"Yeah, and don't forget our deal now" Riley replied, sounding casual but weary. 

"Oh, I won't. Once we're done with him I'll consider us equal" the voice replied, and Jesse could see this fucking asshole's grin even with his eyes closed. 

"What do you mean?" she protested, "You asked for McCree and here he is. There was no addendum to that one."

The man snorted. "Fuck, Morgan. Stop with those fancy-ass words of yours, or Dante's gonna smash your face in again." He chuckled, apparently pleased with imagining the Gang's leader hurting her, then continued in an amused voice. "This last thing. Promise."

Jesse wanted to roll his eyes, but instead he scoffed. "Typical" he said into the darkness, too annoyed not to chime in now. 

"Looooook alive, sunshine!" exclaimed the voice, laughing, and then the back of a strong hand came down into Jesse's face with full force. It cracked his lip open, blood trickling down his chin. His head felt as if it was going to explode, the pain numbing all sounds for a few seconds. He heard them talk but didn't understand what they were saying, all sounds being too far away, too blurry for him to make out. After a few moments someone pulled the cloth off from his eyes, letting it fall to his neck. 

Jesse blinked a few times, and when his eyes finally were able to focus again, he saw Riley lean over him with a concerned expression on her face. 

"His head doesn't look good" she said, fingers gently examining his face and back of his head. 

"Whatever. Get him ready by eight" the voice replied in a bored tone, and then stepped into sight. Eyes setting on Jesse, the man grinned.

"Ay, Jesse. Can't wait." And with that, Luke was gone.

* * *

Always the pretty faces. He should have known.

Riley was sitting in a chair across from him, arms crossed, watching him silently. She had patched him up as good as she could, even had left to get proper supplies to do so. He had spit out the painkiller she had tried giving him, and after four more attempts, she had gotten a syringe from _somewhere_ and had jammed a liquid into his arm. "You'll thank me later" was all she had said, and he nearly would have headbutted her right there, not caring about how much _that_ would have fucked him up.

"Yeah, I sure will. Along with thanking you for setting a trap, kidnapping me and giving me a severe concussion" he had snarled at her, but mostly he was annoyed with himself. A double agent waiting for extraction, sure. That had sounded too good to be true, and, haha! surprise! - it was. He should have known.

"How are you feeling?" she asked into the silence, voice sounding apologetic and distant. 

"Amazing. Never better, really. I only wish you'd skip the whole handcuff foreplay and just come and sit on my dick."

She didn't reply, but her eyes smiled. Chuckling, she shook her head and got up to check on his wounds again. "The bleeding stopped" she said warmly, "so I hope you'll get through everything okay."

Jesse scoffed. "Now you're either stupid or the worst liar I've ever met. Although, on second thought - your lying was what got me here. Stupid, it is."

She couldn't believe he would make it out of there alive. She couldn't. 

"They'll mess you up pretty good, but they know you're worth more alive. Which is all they care about lately" she said, walking behind him. He heard her turn on water, so he guessed that there was a sink someplace behind him.

"Lately." He rolled his eyes. They had cared about fucking things up and accumulating more worth pretty much from the start, which was what made them so dangerous. Still, this between him and them - this was personal, and while Deadlock members were many things, 'forgiving' wasn't one of them.

When she got back into view, she was holding a glass of water and a straw. "Drink" she said, and he obeyed, realizing only now how dry his throat had been.

"It's nothing personal, you know" she said quietly, watching him suck the glass empty in long, big gulps, her eyes wide. 

Jesse shrugged. "Not for you anyway, sweetheart."

* * *

He'd fallen asleep, head lolling forward. Jesse had lost all sense of time, and he couldn't tell how long he'd been in that small empty room. He woke up when the door smashed shut, the bang sending a sharp pain through his head once more. 

"Wakey wakey, little dog" Luke said with a singsong, and he was just as despicable as Jesse remembered him. He was a short but bulky man, bald and grim. The second-in-command wore brown cowboy boots, always, and leather pants that were usually too tight and sticky and smelled like cold sweat. He had gotten his front teeth replaced with golden substitutes shortly after Jesse had joined the Gang, but the gold teeth had been of poor quality, looking brown and disgusting soon after.

"Now aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Jesse said sarcastically, and took pride in seeing Luke's face go dark. Still so touchy with his looks, even after all these years.

"Let's get started" Luke grunted, and McCree saw Riley step out from behind him, playing with her fingers nervously but shifting her stance as soon as she was in Luke's line of vision.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked, and when Luke pulled out his knife, Jesse saw her swallow slowly. 

"Just hold him in place. Put a knife to his throat if you have to, I don't care."

"Gotcha" she said and walked over behind Jesse, tightening the restraints once more before wrapping her arms around his head and chest. Her grip was strong, far stronger than he would've expected, and in any other context it would have turned him on beyond redemption. And while threesomes were definitely up his alley, having a batshit crazy asshole with a knife join in was too much, even for Jesse McCree.

Luke stepped to him and leaned forward, his foul breath hitting Jesse's nose like a rotten wall of smell. Wrinkling his nose, he groaned. "Man, you need to get your teeth fixed. How long's it been? 23 years?" 

The punch hit him hard against his solar plexus, and he couldn't breathe; his body shutting down in a desperate attempt to protect itself. After a few agonizing seconds his lunges started working again, and he gasped for air with ragged sounds. Another one hit him, just as strong but into his lower belly. Two more followed, and Jesse wasn't sure if he was breathing at all, everything being impact upon impact upon impact.

Then came the pain. It crashed over him in a wave that was nauseating, and Jesse tasted bile on his tongue. He also realized now that Riley wasn't simply holding him in place, no, she was countering the impact of Luke's punches so he wouldn't fall over in his chair. She was breathing heavily behind him.

_Good times._

"Now to the real stuff" Luke grunted and cut Jesse's shirt open with the knife he'd been holding in his free hand. "Heard you covered up the Deadlock sign with some shit, being the traitor fucking asshole you never said you'd be. I gotta say, we were all pretty disappointed." 

Luke let his knife brush over the spot where the old gang sign had been, now covered in a fist-sized tattoo of a gun that said "Peacekeeper" underneath, small Overwatch and Blackwatch symbols embellishing the sides.

"But that's the way it is with puppies. You take them in, feed them, take care of them..." He stopped circling the knife, end aimed at the outer edges of the tattoo now. "...and then they bite you." With that he jammed the knife into his flesh, cutting away at him. Jesse clenched his fists, ground his teeth together in a hopeless attempt not to scream. His body jerked away from the knife, but Riley held him firmly in place, and he heard the small sound of a whimper coming out of her mouth. 

Luke kept cutting, working with precision and focus. When he looked down, Jesse saw a flap of his skin hanging down on his right side where his tattoo had been, and after a long moment of cutting in silence, Luke was done. He hadn't cut too deeply, but the wound was large, and bleeding, and red flesh was clearly visible. Seeing his own body being mutilated like this was too much for him, and combined with everything else Jesse felt in horror how hot tears streamed down his face. 

_He should've just killed me._

"Beautiful" the older man said joyfully, holding the piece of skin in his hand like a treasured prize. "Think I can frame this?" he asked Riley, whose hands were trembling around Jesse's torso, struggling to let go of him. 

"You're crazy" she said, voice straining to appear cool, but Luke didn't pick up on it. Instead, he laughed. "Right on I am." 

He was about to leave when he turned around and grinned. "Thanks Morgan. That was fun."

Riley didn't reply at first, her breaths still coming irregularly. "When are you handing him in?" she asked eventually, voice shaky and quiet.

"Tomorrow I guess. We'll see what Dante's up to first. I'm sure he wants to have some fun with the lil' pup as well before we send him to the vet and kiss him bye bye." With that he took another look at the bloodied skin, and smiled. "Eh, you have fun with him if you want, alright? Give him to Dante tomorrow and our debt's good."

As soon as he closed the door, Jesse heard her rush over to the sink, and then throw up. There were sounds of her sobbing and gagging, then water. Vision blurry and half-faded, he saw her outline hurry to the supply kit she had brought earlier from the corners of his eyes, fumbling with what looked like patches.

He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out, and from the back of his mind darkness crept up on him and swallowed him whole once more.

Before everything went black, a random thought crossed his mind.

_I think her name was Mary._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3 sorry updating this took so long, I had this outlined forever but didn't really feel up to writing it for so long. Next ones should be easier though :3


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